After The Battles Have Been Fought
by Acidic Laughter
Summary: And they would plant a forest together, from the seeds of misery and watch the daisies sway. Slash.


A/N: Slashing goggles on too tight, perhaps. I'm sure this idea has been done before… oh well. I'm assuming that Peeta didn't really know who Gale was before, or at least, not well enough to recognize him right away. crappy first chapter.

XXX

_I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!_

Those words had burned a tract into Peeta's mind, vile and rotting into the corners of his brain. he didn't think he could ever forget them- they just kept _replayingreplayingreplaying_ and he thought he would go absolutely mad any second now.

Why, of all people in District 12, did it have to be her? He was foolish to be relieved when Primrose's name was called and not hers; everybody in the district knew the one thing Katniss truly cared for was her little sister. And oh, he knew it was terrible for him to wish death on an innocent 12 year old, but it would be infinitely times better than losing Katniss. It was pathetic, the near obsession he had with the girl, but he couldn't help it. She was strong, she could take care of herself, and people _wanted _her around.

Perhaps it was selfish, to think of himself at a time like this, but he couldn't help the niggling thought _'would my brothers jump at the opportunity to save me?'_

The doorbell to the bakery rang and Peeta snapped out of his stupor, fixing a hopefully pleasant smile on his face.

"Welcome, how may I help you?" Peeta said amiably. A slightly disheveled boy with sunken eyes, a little older then himself, stumbled in, a woolen pack slung over his shoulder. He was tanned, with sharp eyebrows and dangerous eyes that suggested he was from the Seam. His jaw was clenched and he seemed rather tense- but Peeta wasn't there to pry.

"Is your father in?" he asked.

"Not at the moment, why?"

The other boy paused to scrutinize him, wondering if he was allowed to know his father bought illegally gotten squirrels. After a moment's hesitation, he shrugged- what the hell, it wasn't his problem in the end- and replied, "Normally, we give him squirrels in exchange for bread or the like."

For a moment, Peeta wondered who _we _meant, since the boy was obviously there alone. He had a sneaking suspicion about the other person, but he refused to acknowledge the thought for too long. "I figured. Loaves go missing pretty often. I'll still buy them and pass them on, if you can't come by later on." The Seam boy nodded, retrieving the pack from his shoulder and fishing out a squirrel to hand him.

Deals done, the boy left the shop with a jingle of the bell and Peeta tried not to think too much of it.

XXXX

Over the next few days, trading squirrels for various kinds of bread became a fairly common occurrence. Shaking off any doubts he had about the boy- whose name he still hadn't really learned- Peeta began to look forward to his visits. It was something interesting in his routine and the Seam boy even started talking to him beyond business. Not very much, but it was something.

Though, there was something undeniably familiar about him. Perhaps they went to the same school.

Still, Peeta wasn't one to complain, especially not to company. They settled into a routine and all was fine until-

A familiar chime of the door opening sounded, but Peeta didn't quite register it. his eyes were glued to the TV in the corner- Katniss was screaming, _oh god_, there was fire clawing its way up her leg and he could feel tears coating the back of this throat. He didn't hear any footsteps come closer and he assumed the boy was preoccupied in staring in horror at the TV as well.

"…Katniss…" a choked whisper came out of the seam boys throat. Peeta's eyes turned to him and he was surprised to see the normally stoic boy trembling and at near tears.

"Did you know her?" he asked, after a pause. Even if the District was always upset at seeing their people killed, most weren't moved to the point of tears like that- just watching the Games in dreary resignation. Around the time of the Games, he imagined the coal the people spent their lives with began to seep into their bones and turn spirits ashy gray.

If he could see spirits, he would think the Seam boy's would be stained a pitiful blue.

There was a long, dragging silence between the two, bordering on downright uncomfortable. The sounds of the TV painfully punctuated the quiet and Peeta's mind was screaming at him to say _anything _so he didn't have to hear it. Bile was bubbling its way up his throat and he swallowed thickly, trying to force it back down and hold his tongue. The other boy was finally about to tell him something important after days of sparse idle chat and almost stiff conversations- it was a chance he probably wouldn't get again for a long time.

Finally, _finally, _the other spoke, words trickling slowly like honey."Yes, I did know her. She was my… best friend. I've known her for a few years now and she was the other one who would hunt and sell the game with me. A little hard on the outside but she really is a decent person, deep down inside. Why else would she volunteer for Prim?"

When she left, she told me care and feed for her family- especially if she never came back. But I _know_ she'll come back, she's Katniss. She doesn't die without a fight," the boy's breathing was a little shaky, and not all of it was because of the rapid way his sentences were coming out. "I think… I think I loved her. But I never got to tell her that."

When his breath hitched on the last word, peeta soundlessly rose from his post behind the counter and hurried around to tightly embrace the upset boy. Patting his back softly, Peeta muttered meaningless things he hoped were comforting. He didn't know if he was allowed this closeness but he had a feeling the other wouldn't care right now- though later, he would no doubt be embarrassed.

Peeta didn't expect a return hug and he didn't get one, though the way tears were welling up in his own eyes, he rather wished he did.

XXXX

After the stiff goodbyes, Peeta hadn't supposed the other- _apparently taller, _he thought with slight annoyance- boy would come so soon, the very next day in fact. The small, perhaps a little strained, smile was even less expected but Peeta did not comment on it, instead just smiling wider himself and wishing the other boy would smile more. Before Katniss had left to the Hunger Games, maybe. Not now, with the worry Peeta was certain plagued him.

"My name is Gale," he said as he sauntered in, "never properly introduced myself."

"I'm Peeta," he replied with slight hesitation. He couldn't help the _jealousy_ he attached to Gale now- this was one of the few people who could truly be called Katniss friends and despite the obvious struggle Gale was facing at losing her, at the least he had real true memories of her. Of grinning and easy days and playful conversations, and that was probably more than Peeta would ever have now.

But he wasn't about to ruin what little friendship he had with the other boy; Gale was the closest, and yet most heartbreaking, thing he could ever get to Katniss.

Gale didn't seem to notice anything off and just handed him the squirrel, as was usual. Peeta forced his easygoing grin; he had always been fairly smooth actor. A sigh escaped Peeta's lips as he reached for the bread and came to a decision. There was no point ruining things now.

A few more extra loaves plopped on the counter in front of Gale. He stared at them for a moment seeming a bit confused and starting to say, "Peeta, I think you ga-"

"Here. For Prim and her mother, I'm sure they need it," Peeta explained, a few parts cheery and a few parts gloomy. The smile didn't quite reach his eyes anymore and his features drooped in a way that sharply drew Gale's attention to the eye bags- _how had he never noticed that before?_

"…Oh. Thank you," Gale said. Scooping the loaves into his bag, the look in his eyes seemed grateful. He began walking out the shop slowly and before he stepped out the threshold, without turning he added, "Katniss would be glad, too."


End file.
